Step Secrets: Sharing My Best Friend (Taboo FFM Menage) Read online

  Step Secrets:

  Sharing My Best Friend

  By R. Nutt

  Published by R. Nutt

  Copyright 2015 R. Nutt

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. All characters are above 18 years old and are not related by blood. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  ***

  “Ugh, I know it just ended, but I already can't wait for summer!” My best friend, Heather, said as we burst into my old bedroom. Brightly colored bags hung from our elbows – and each bag was a veritable treasure trove filled with new swimsuits! Since it was already fall and the weather was getting colder, all the stores downtown wanted to clear out their summer inventory. We both stocked up on bikinis – big time!

  “It's a long way away, alright,” I said with a sigh. “But at least we have something to look forward to … when all that snow and ice is blankets the ground, and the sun's setting at 4 PM …”

  “Uuugh! Don't even!” Heather tossed her bags on my bed and started unbuttoning her jeans. She looked over her shoulder at me – with a devious, trouble-making grin – as she wiggled her round tush free. Just a few months away at college, and I'd already forgotten how spontaneous and wild Heather can be …!

  I laughed quietly to myself as she stepped out of her pants and then pulled her thong down her thighs. The skimpy panties bunched up as they rolled and dragged down her soft flesh, until the intimates lay scrunched up in a tight little heap on the floor.

  Off in my own world, I couldn't help but look at her rear – the famous butt that guys were always so obsessed with in high school! But even I had to admit, she did have a cute butt. It was also hard not to notice her too-cute, tiny tufts of strawberry-blonde hair above her mound.

  I wasn't trying to stare … sometimes you just can't help but notice what's right in front of you. But I must've had a funny look on my face.

  “What?” she said coyly, biting her lip. “Don't act like you haven't seen me naked before, Riley.”

  I giggled. “Yeah … too many times to count.”

  Me and my roommate at the dorms? We go out of our way to make sure we'll never see each other's skin. That's why part of me never will never understand how some girls, like Heather, are so open. About being a girl, and guys, and … well, everything, really! And I didn't understand how I could be so stiff about all those same things!

  Or, maybe even more confusingly, I didn't understand how a girl who was so open could be best friends with a shy girl like me. But I'm not complaining. Heather makes my life more interesting – that's for sure.

  “So … it's sure nice that our college fall breaks coincide like this, huh?” Heather asked while she stepped into a bikini bottom and pulled it up her thighs. She took off her shirt and unclasped her bra.

  “Yeah, really! I hope it happens every year!” I rifled through my bikini bag and found one I wanted to try on. I stripped down and changed as fast as I could. I could fake it, but I knew I wasn't as comfortable with nudity as Heather …

  She shook her bra off right in front of me. I glanced at her nipples. Her pink rosy buds were pierced with steel barbell studs. “When'd you get those done?”

  “Soon as I moved into the dorms! I couldn't wait. I always wanted to, you know. What do you think?”

  I'd never go for it myself, but I had to admit, the sight made my stomach flit with excitement.

  “Kinky,” I joked with my best imitation of dumb-guy voice.

  She slipped on the matching top of her bikini.

  “What about Beau? He went to Northwestern, right? Is he on fall break, too?” I couldn't help but notice the twinkle that suddenly appeared in Heather's eye when she mentioned my step-brother.

  “Heather!” I laughed, pretending to be annoyed. “You're still obsessed with him, aren't you?”

  I couldn't blame her. Lots of girls were obsessed with Beau. My Mom married Beau's Dad right before our senior year of high school started, and so Beau and his Dad moved up from Florida to live with us. The senior girls were tickled pink – having a new guy around for our senior year was like a breath of fresh air in the dating pool. He didn't have the history or the baggage that all the other guys had – the ones we'd been dating and messing around with since middle school!

  And of course, it didn't hurt that Beau was irresistibly handsome. Or that he was ridiculously fit and tan and he made our football team a contender overnight. Or that he oozed the kind of southern charm that made you want to curl up next to him and ask him any random question, just to hear him speak with his cute twang.

  Nope. Didn't hurt at all.

  Of course, that was great news for all the other girls. For me? Well, obviously, Beau was my new step-brother. So it was hard for me to think of him as anything but that. At least … that's what I always told myself. But, to be completely honest. One time, somehow, I did have a naughty dream with him in it. Gross, I know, but I've heard of other people having weird dreams with even more inappropriate people to dream about – get my drift? Anyhow, as soon as I woke up and remembered he was my step-brother, I felt really, really embarrassed and ashamed. But that little secret is going to the grave with me, okay?

  “Obsessed is a powerful word, Riley. But I sure wouldn't say no to Mr. Dimples! And P.S., you know you'd go for him if he wasn't your step-brother – don't even try to deny it. That perfect smile? Those biceps?”

  I paused. Mr. Dimples. I hadn't heard that one before, but it made me crack a smile. Beau did have nice dimples when he smiled, now that I thought about it.

  “Oh my God! You're considering it, aren't you!” Heather screamed with glee. “Aren't you even gonna deny it?! That's your step-brother, Riley! Off limits!”

  I rolled my eyes and gave her a long stare. “I wasn't considering hooking up with Beau, Heather. I was wondering if he had to come home for fall break, too. I hadn't heard. I hadn't even thought about him at all recently – at least not since Mom told me he started dating Chantal.”

  Chantal. Chantal. Her name alone made my blood boil. Just because her Grandma was born in France, her whole family acted like they were only vacationing here in the States from Paris. They all had French names, and pronounced everything with a perfect French accent, despite never actually going to France.

  She's one of those girls who thinks she's such hot shit and she puts down anyone who doesn't agree. And naturally, because that's how she acts, she attracts a bunch of people who worship the ground she walks on. Which only makes the problem worse, because then she thinks she's justified to act however she pleases!

  And all the boys in high school? Well, they loved her little 'French sex kitten' act, of course. “Oh my God, bro! You see what that French chick was wearing today?” “Damn, those legs!” “She's sooooo hot!” Blah, blah, blah!

  Of course, that's not my actual problem with Chantal. The real problem was that she loved to hook up with the boyfriends of girls that she wanted to measure herself against – to prove she was better than them or something. Heather knew that as well as I did. We both experienced her thievery, if you know what I mean.

  “Wait, what?” Heather made a squicked out face. “He's dating Chantal? Seriously?”

  “That's what Mom told me. Turns out she went to Northwestern, too. Beau and Chantal. Revolting, isn't it? I'm sure she thinks it's a match made in heaven. Or
France, whichever's better in her mind.”

  “Ugh.” Heather posed in the mirror, modeling another bikini.

  “Yup.”

  “You know, I'm still friends with her on Facebook for whatever reason. She's going through this Wiccan phase now. She straight up calls herself a Witch! And she posts updates about casting spells and vexing people – I shit you not!”

  I laughed out loud. “Well, at least she's finally admitting it to the world!”

  Heather sighed. “What does Beau see in her? Such a disappointment … my heart is breaking right now …”

  I folded my arms. “Believe me, I have no idea. Maybe she casted a spell on him.”

  We both cracked up. But then Heather pursed her lips and gave me a funny look.

  “What?” I asked anxiously. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Nothing, I was just – I was wondering. Do you think, maybe Beau dating Chantal, could have anything to do with … you know … when you hooked up with Beau's best friend Brad at his graduation party?”

  “Oh, so now it's my fault?! C'mon, Heather! Besides, it was my graduation party too, not just Beau's!”

  “I know, I know. I'm sorry. Forget I said anything about it.”

  I was still fuming from that comment. What did she mean by that?! Why would Beau try to get back at me just for hooking up with his best friend? That's totally different than dating someone's mortal enemy.

  Heather sensed that I was still steamed. She walked towards me, her head hung low, and put her hands on my hips. She looked into my eyes with her big, sad eyes.

  “Hey. Riley. I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by that.”

  I rolled my eyes and let my bad mood leave me. I put my hands on her hips, too, and grinned at her. “No, I'm sorry. You know how crazy I get whenever that girl is brought up.”

  We both giggled.

  “Enough about she-who-shall-not-be-named, then!” Heather declared. “Hey, where's your computer at? I wanna put on some jams!”

  I shook my head. “I took my computer to the dorms! Unless, maybe, Beau's computer is still in his room …”

  “Let's go see!”

  ***

  We went into Beau's old bedroom. He'd left his computer, alright. But more importantly, it looked like he might have been home recently. A duffel bag sat on his bed, unzipped, and with some clothes sticking out of it.

  Heather squealed. “Maybe he is home for fall break, too!” She picked up the item sticking out of his bag – a plain white t-shirt – and buried her face in it, inhaling deeply.

  “Oh my God,” I laughed. “You are crazy, Heather.”

  She pulled the shirt away from her face. The girl looked blissed out – a dopey smile, her cheeks rosy, her eyes barely open.

  “You look like you just orgasmed!” I screamed.

  She chuckled, slowly shaking her head back and forth. “Well, Riley … that is, definitely … a distinct possibility …”

  “Oh my God, you are so raunchy!” I laughed so hard my sides hurt!

  “No. Seriously. Smell this.”

  She came at me with his t-shirt. I quickly moved away, my arms up in protest, until she backed me against the wall. I wrestled with her, the both of us laughing like crazy, but she finally managed to press the shirt into my face.

  Blackness covered my sight. Gasping, I breathed in.

  And my whole body went limp.

  Beau's manly scent filled my senses. His smell was like … burning leaves on a crisp Autumn day. And the comfort of warming your frozen fingers over the fire. But there was another note – a note of something salty. Like he'd been out in the sun too long, and the sun had burnt his skin just a touch. Just until it smelled the slightest bit sweet and salty. And the smell of his shirt, of freshly laundered, clean linen, perfected it all.

  Smelling that – smelling him – made a rush of memories flood my mind. I saw Beau's winsome smile. Those radiant white teeth, the way his eyes squinted when he smiled, those dimples. His thick arms. A crowd of girls behind him, even, watching his every move with adoring eyes.

  And then other images flooded my mind's eye. Images from some of the dirty dreams I've had about him. Oops – did I say dreams? Okay, so I might have lied earlier when I said it only happened once.

  Actually … it's a lot more than once. And they've been happening a lot more often since we both moved away to college. And every time I wake up, my panties are sopping wet.

  I don't get it.

  I know I shouldn't be attracted to him. I mean, I'm not – right?

  “Uh, hellooo?” Heather called. “Anyone in there? Earth to Riley!”

  My eyelids, heavy as a bag of rocks, were a struggle to lift. But light flooded in as I managed to crack my eyes open, and there was Heather – her eyes were huge and she looked stunned. Her lips made a big “O” shape.

  “Oh … my … God!” she screamed. “You look like you just came too!”

  “Nooo …” I laughed. A breathy, slow, heavy laugh. I sounded like I was stoned.

  “Wow, Riley! Even your nipples are hard!”

  She reached out and pinched my nipples through my bikini top. That woke me out of my stupor. “Ow!”

  “Admit it, you have a crush on Beau!” She looked so wily, like she was determined to get at the bottom of this. “You were off in your own world dreaming about him!”

  “Heather!” I clicked my tongue. “You know, they say that the sense of smell is intimately linked to our memories, so when you put that shirt in my face, of course it's going to make me think of B–”

  “Oh my God!” she squealed again. “I knew it! You do have a crush on him!”

  “Shutup! I do not!” Flustered, I tossed my hair over my shoulder. “Can you just hurry up and put your music on already? God knows where Beau is … I don't want him coming in here and catching us in our bikinis.”

  “Or maybe you do.” Heather winked at me and I groaned.

  She went over to his computer. She moved the mouse and the monitor lit right up.

  “Holy shit!” Heather gasped.

  “What? What?” I rushed to peek over her shoulder.

  “He left his e-mail account open … dude, here's his e-mails with Chantal!”

  “Uuugh!” I lifted my gaze to the ceiling and shook my fists. “I thought we were done talking about her.”

  “I'm sorry, I just – I can't not read this, Riley.”

  “That's snooping, Heather.”

  I tried to give her a look. But her eyes were already busily darting left and right as she read Beau's personal e-mails. She pressed her lips together and choked back a very amused laugh.

  “No way,” she panted to herself.

  I sighed. “Do I even wanna know? … No … I don't,” I muttered to myself. “I'm gonna go try some other suits on, alright? Please don't spy on Beau, Heather.”

  “K. Just – just a bit longer.”

  ***

  I tried on another suit. And then a second, and a third, and a fourth. And Heather was still not back yet. The lack of music was deafening.

  “Heatheeeer!” I called, sounding whiny.

  A long pause. “Wha'?” she called back from Beau's room.

  “Stop snooping and come hang out with me already! It's rude!”

  Another long pause. “I really think you oughtta come see this, Riley!”

  I sighed. Okay. Fine. I give up. Chantal was in my life now, I guess, whether I liked it or not.

  I marched my way back into Beau's room. Heather was still hunched over the computer, reading his e-mails. “What can possibly be so interesting about their little love letters, Heather?”

  She swiveled in the office chair to face me, her lips twisted into a sinister smile. She looked like some kind of cartoon arch nemesis. All that was missing was the evil cat perched on her arm rest.

  “What if I told you …” she trailed off. “That Beau and Chantal haven't fucked yet?”

  I winced. I didn't wanna think about them fuck
ing at all, and the thought of their two naked bodies togeth-- no, no, no!

  Then again … if they hadn't done the nasty yet … that was good.

  Guilt and curiosity flooded into my warm cheeks. It was wrong to snoop on people, I knew that. But … ugh! I couldn't help myself, I wanted to know.

  “… Really? How would you know?”

  “Get this.” She crossed her legs. “Chantal has been lecturing him about 'semen retention.' She said she heard about it in some witch class she's part of, and she said that every time a guy cums, he depletes his life force energy level. So she's demanding that he keep doing it, or else she'll break it off with him.”

  “Witch class?” I blurted out. I could barely wrap my brain around that part, let alone the rest.

  “I know, right? Anyway … apparently they've been together for two months. And she's demanded that he not jerk off during that whole time. And of course, she won't give him any. If he accidentally cums in his sleep, she wants him to start the count over again. Until his 'life force' is high enough. And then she wants to 'make love' to him when his sexual energy is high enough, and on a full moon – so she can absorb his energy and get high off of it.”

  “What the fuck? No way!” I laughed. I ran over to the computer and read over her shoulder. “Oh … my … God! She really says all that!”

  “Yup.” Heather shifted in her seat. “Um, there's more, too.”

  “God … do I want to know?”

  “I dunno. Do you?”

  I gulped. I stared at Heather. Her pupils looked big. “Ugh. Yeah. I wanna know.”

  “There's pictures.”

  “Of – of what?”

  “His cock.”

  I shrieked. “No! Why!”

  Heather nodded. “Yup. She said she wanted him to take a picture every night with an erection. So she could see the 'progress' and make sure that he wasn't cheating.”

  “Progress?” I guffawed. “What progress?”

  “Well …” Heather stalled.

  I groaned. “Show me!”

  She pulled up a folder. Sure enough. He had a picture for every night since he started, err, stopped jerking it, I guess. Heather clicked on the first one. I felt dirty looking at it. It was my step-brother's cock, after all, and I had no right to be looking at it …